


Eighteen

by NarryMusings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Song fic, inspired by One Direction's 18, narry storan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:50:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3800893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryMusings/pseuds/NarryMusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed listens — and is inspired — as the relationship between one of his best friends and his best friend develops and changes into something wonderful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a prompt I got (and later posted) on Tumblr. It's based on !8, the song Ed wrote for One Direction and, well, since he's the one who wrote it I wrote THIS particular piece in his perspective.
> 
> Enjoy :)

The first time Ed notices the shift in Harry’s behaviour around Niall is when both lads are at his house for dinner one evening.

The whole of One Direction are here, laughing and having pints while they wait for the ribs on the BBQ. They’re all loud and rambunctious, talking over each other the way they always do in interviews and every now and then Ed sort of regrets inviting them all over at the same time. It’s not that he doesn’t like hanging out with all of them — it’s just that they’re easier to handle in small quantities.

Louis’ the worst. He’s the one who starts everything, the one who encourages everyone else — the one who could talk _anyone_ into _anything_ without even batting an eyelash. Zayn’s not far behind Louis. He’s quiet on the outside, a bit shy and reserved — but Louis unleashes the little terror in him every time. Liam, from what he’s heard anyway, was the only sensible, the “daddy”, the one who sat back with the imaginary first-aid kit and watched while everyone else risked their lives — but Ed’s never seen that side of him because, quite frankly, he’s almost as bad as Louis now that he’s “let loose a bit.”

Harry and Niall are a bit different. They tag along, of course, stir up trouble just like the others but Harry’s a bit too clumsy and awkward to take seriously and Niall, well, he’s a bit too soft-around-the edges to be labelled much of a menace.

The entire day feels like babysitting a bunch of children — it doesn’t help that those children manage to turn the rest of Ed’s older, maturer friends into actual children as well — and Ed sort of regrets it, except he doesn’t.

He doesn’t even know _when_ he notices Harry — or, rather, Harry _with Niall_ — he just sort of…does. And, after that, it’s like he can’t stop noticing.

Harry loves physical contact almost as a rule; a hand on the shoulder here, standing incredibly close there, his head in your lap at the end a really long day. He’s a _people_ person, loves interacting with people, loves being around people; so much so, Ed doesn’t think Harry’s ever spent a moment alone in his life. He’s even closer with his band mates, often drapes himself all over them whenever a moment arises, cuddles them, clings to them. In fact, the whole band is sort of a mess of bodies and limbs whenever they’re together — it’s part of what makes One Direction, well, One Direction. It’s sort of charming, really.

But there’s something about Niall, today at least, that’s got Harry sort of…hanging all over the blond. Following him around. Touching him — hands on his shoulders, rubbing at his arms, playing with his hair, poking at his stomach. It’s like Harry’s feeding off Niall’s energy, like he needs it to be alive. Ed doesn’t even think Harry’s left Niall’s side since the moment the Irish boy arrived several hours ago.

By the time Ed’s other friends have left, which has left Ed alone with five drunk boyband members, Louis, Zayn and Liam are so busy trying to invent a new drinking game — their own drinks left forgotten on the coffee table — that they don’t even seem to notice (or care) that Harry’s got Niall pinned beneath his long, spidery legs on Ed’s couch. But Ed notices. He notices that Niall’s arms are draped comfortably across Harry’s shins, a beer bottle nursed between both hands. He notices that Harry has long-since finished his own drink, runs his index finger in circles around the rim of the bottle, head propped against the arm rest, his heavy, lidded gaze trained on the side of Niall’s face.

It could be nothing, he supposes. It could just be Harry being Harry and Niall being the easiest one in the band for Harry to be around. Ed could be reading the situation entirely the wrong way.

But it could also be _something_. Harry has, after all, always been a bit _fond_ of Niall — and it goes all the way back to the time Harry flew back to Mullingar when they were 16, before the X Factor live shows. He knows this because Harry still talks about it, a year and a half later.

(Ed makes a mental note to ask Harry about it one day.)

X

Harry’s just finished talking about Niall. Again.

They’re in Ed’s living room a few weeks later, having a few drinks and watching football, talking about stats and whose team is better — Manchester United or Chelsea — and then all of a sudden Harry’s going on about Niall and Derby and Niall and music — and Niall. His eyes are bright, his cheeks are a bit flushed and he’s animated in that totally Harry sort of way; in that totally Harry _I-really-enjoy-talking-about-Niall_ Styles sort of way.

This isn’t the first time he’s talk so much about Niall, either — not by a long shot. In fact, Ed’s pretty sure he could write a book about Niall with the amount of stories Harry’s told him. _Niall this, Niall that — did you know Niall’s actually Irish?_

“You talk about Niall a lot,” Ed observes, a moment after Harry stops talking in favour of taking a sip of his beer.

Harry freezes visibly, shoulders still, jaw clenched as he eyes Ed over the rim of the bottle hovering in front of his lips. “Do I?”

“I mean, like, it’s not a problem or anything,” the redhead assures him, shrugging his shoulders casually. He takes a very deliberate sip of his own beer. “It’s just… — do you fancy him?”

Harry takes another sip before leaning forward, setting the bottle on the coffee table in front of them as he rests his elbows on his knees. He glances sideways at Ed, a weak smile tugging at his lips. “Can you keep a secret?”

Ed blinks, sits forward to mirror Harry’s position. “Are you — I mean, does he-“

“He doesn’t know; I haven’t told him,” the brunette says quickly. “I don’t think I’m going to.”

“Why not?”

“I mean, first of all, he’s still on-and-off with Holly,” Harry says softly, smirks almost bitterly. “And, I dunno, we’re in the same band, you know? I don’t want to fuck anything up.”

Ed frowns, gazes down the neck of his bottle. “I don’t think he’d let that happen.”

“But look at Louis and I — and that wasn’t even real,” Harry argues pointedly.

“That’s different though because it _wasn’t_ real,” Ed points out — and they both know it. “This _would_ be more personal, you know? This would be real and that’s entirely different.”

"You think I should tell him?”

Ed looks sideways at him, shrugs. “I think you should think about it.”

Harry sighs, takes ahold of his bottle once more before leaning back against the back of the couch and setting it in his lap. “It’s just — it’s not serious, it’s just a crush; I’m not, like, _in love_ with him or anything,” he insists. “I’ll get over it.”

Ed nods before taking a sip of his own bottle, again, as they both let silence take over. He doesn’t believe it for a second.

X

“‘m in love with him,” a rough, slurred voice echoes through the phone.

Less than a minute ago Ed was woken up by the sound of his cellphone vibrating loudly on his nightstand. He’d had half a mind to ignore it and let whoever it was talk to his voicemail, call them back in the morning— but then curiosity had gotten the better of him. And then Harry’s name and his face were splashed across the screen — and he knew where Harry was, that Harry had been out with Nick and a few of their friends for a post-18th birthday party in Harry’s honour.

Ed sighs as he forces himself to sit up, still a bit disoriented and runs a hand through messy, orange hair. “I know,” he murmurs.

“‘m _so_ in love with ‘im,” Harry slurs.

“I know.”

The brunette hiccups drunkenly, takes a deep breath and then- “He’s fuckin’ _perfect_ , Ed. Like, he’s sunshine, y’know? And not just b’cause his hair’s blond — and soft, so soft. He’s just — his smile’s beautiful and his laugh makes my chest hurt and he’s so happy, like all the time. ‘t’s, like, imposs’ble not to be happy around ‘im. An’ he makes me so, so _happy_ and…fuck, Ed, ‘m _in love_ with him.” The last part comes out like a groan and Ed has a picture in his head of Harry pulling a blanket over his head and burying his face into the fabric.

Ed rubs a hand over his face; he really wishes Harry could’ve realized this in the middle of day rather than the middle of the night — or even in the morning, the morning would’ve sufficed. “Harry-“

“What do I do?” Harry asks softly, helplessly, like Ed has all the answers. He sounds tired, defeated; like he’s about to fall asleep. “Do I tell ‘im? Can’t tell him, th’t’s stupid-”

“It’s not stupid,” the redhead insists reassuringly. He reaches out to tug gently at a loose thread on his duvet, rolls it between his fingers absentmindedly. “If you want to tell him you should tell him.”

“How?” Harry presses. His voice is a bloody mixture of curiosity and desperation.

“I mean, he’s _Niall_ , yeah? He’s one of your best friends, you practically live in each other’s pocket. You know him better than almost anyone else in the world. You’ll know what to say.”

"Yeah — yeah, you’re right,” Harry breathes. He pauses — and Ed’s pretty sure the muffled sound he hears is Harry taking a drink of something. Hopefully it’s water. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters a moment later.

“Does anyone else know? Like, the lads?”

“No…don’t think ‘m gonna tell ‘em — not yet,” Harry mutters. “Definitely not ‘til I tell Niall. Don’t want to make things weird band-wise, y’know?”

And, no, Ed doesn’t know because he isn’t in a band but he hums anyway because he gets it. And Harry just needs someone to get it, to talk to. Even — maybe _especially_ — at 3:45 in the morning.

X

Ed senses the difference almost right away; the way Harry’s acting around Niall now compared to _before_. It’s July and Ed’s invited a few friends over for drink; Harry and Niall are the only One Direction boys to show up because the others, apparently, have prior girlfriend commitments.

They’re still incredibly in-tuned to one another, they still fool around and talk about their inside jokes — which just confuse everyone else — and they’re still very much Harry and Niall, but Ed can tell that something’s off with Harry. He can tell by the way Harry sort of sits back and stares whilst Niall chatters about; it’s like instead of his eyes looking like they’re about to explode with love and adoration they’re a bit sadder. A bit like he’s trying to squash it down. Which is so, so unlike him.

Harry disappears inside at some point to go for a wee and when Ed goes in to get some plates it’s to find Harry in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. He smiles at Ed, leans a hip against the counter.

“You haven’t told him, have you?” Ed wonders — guesses — aloud. Admittedly, though, his voice sounds a bit more accusatory than he’d intended.

Harry shrugs, unscrewing the cap from bottle. “I almost did, does that count?”

“No,” Ed says firmly. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was going to, yeah,” Harry starts, pausing to take a sip from the water bottle, “and then he told me about Amy.”

The redhead blinks, stares at the brunette blankly. “Who the hell is Amy?”

“Right? Exactly,” Harry scoffs — although Ed’s pretty sure Harry’s being sarcastic because of course Harry would know who Amy is. “So, she’s Irish and it turns out Niall’s been seeing her for a few months. Which means even if I’d told him, he’d have rejected me because he’staken.”

Ed frowns. Truly and wholly feels bad for Harry. “That’s shit, mate,” he mutters. He also feels a bit blindsided, himself.

Harry shrugs. “‘s alright. Like, he still makes me feel like I’m on cloud 9, but it’s alright,” he murmurs.

Ed knows Harry’s lying; knows he’s hurting. He can see it. He can hear it in the wounded tone of Harry’s voice.

"Is he serious about Amy?”

“Considering he never even told me he was _interested_ to begin with? Doubt it,” Harry replies, reaching into the drawer by his hip to grab several pieces of cutlery.

"Maybe you just have to stick it out, then,” Ed suggests. What for, however — for Niall to realize he doesn’t fancy Amy as much as he thought, for Niall to get bored of her? — he’s not exactly sure.

Harry shrugs in a way that tells Ed he’s done talking about it so he drops it.

X

Harry starts dating Taylor in October.

They met back in March whilst backstage at the Kids Choice Awards but, short from exchanging numbers, that’s as far as it got — unit they started texting a few days later. Almost non-stop. They texted for a couple of months before things sort of slowed down as Taylor started seeing Connor Kennedy. But Ed, who’s great friends with _both_ Taylor and Harry knew that both of them were still a bit interested in the other. Needless to say, he wasn’t all that surprised when Taylor and Connor broke off whatever fling they were having.

Nor is he surprised when, a few weeks later, Harry tells him he’s seeing Taylor. Taylor, who doesn’t tell him for the sole reason that Harry had wanted to be the one to do so.

Ed _knows_ Harry likes her — that he likes her company and her kindness, that he thinks she’s a good person and that they could be good for _each other_. He knows Harry has genuine feelings for her, has a genuine heart; knows he would never pick up a relationship with her if he didn’t think it could work. He also happens to think they make a lovely couple. Which is why he simply accepts it rather than asks questions.

But he also knows that Harry is still very much in love with Niall and that Niall may (or may not) be seeing someone else now as well. It’s not that he thinks Harry’s using his new found feelings for Taylor to get over Niall, to forget that Niall has someone too — he just wonders, perhaps, if Harry’s going about it a bit too quickly. But, still, he doesn’t ask questions.

X

Ed bumps, quite literally, into a flushed, bothered-looking Niall backstage at the Jingle Ball almost exactly a month after he finds out about Harry and Taylor.

One Direction is about to go on stage in a few minutes and Ed’s been looking for Harry for the better part of the last 20 minutes. It’s not important, really, he just hasn’t seen much of Harry lately, hasn’t really talked to him very much either if he’s honest.

Ed blinks, hardly recognizes Niall due the current frown on the blond boy’s face. “Niall - you alright, mate?” he asks, sounding a bit concerned, as he reaches out to put his hands on Niall’s shoulders, to steady him as he stumbles back from the impact.

“Fine,” Niall mutters, and Ed notices that he’s pointedly avoiding his gaze. He slips by a moment later, between Ed and the wall just as Harry exits the room Niall had just barrelled out of.

Ed looks at Harry, glances over his shoulder at where Niall disappears rather quickly around the corner and then back at Harry. Harry, who looks a bit upset and bothered himself, actually. He squints curiously and tilts his head slightly. “Is everything alright?” he asks tentatively.

“I - I have no idea,” Harry mutters. His eyebrows come together in confusion and his eyes get this far-away sort of look in them. He doesn’t look directly at Ed either. “Niall’s just… He’s been acting strange lately - like he’s mad at me about something but he won’t tell me what about.”

The redhead hums. He can’t even remember a time when Harry had mentioned Niall being angry at someone — let alone at Harry.

“We’ve never — I mean, we’ve had rows before, like, with band stuff but he’s never gotten _cross_ with me,” Harry murmurs. He pauses, smiles politely as one of the sound engineers passes by and then disappears around the same corner Niall had a moment ago. Once the man is out of earshot, Harry continues, “I didn’t even know he knew _how_ to be angry.”

Ed doesn’t say it — in part because he doesn’t get a chance to as that’s when Paul rounds the same corner from the opposite direction and shouts for Harry that he needs to be on stage in 30 seconds — but he wonders if, perhaps, it has something to do with Taylor. It’s a long shot, maybe. But maybe it’s not. (What are the odds that Taylor comes into the picture and all of a sudden Niall won’t talk to Harry?)

He thinks the confirmation might come in the fact that Niall avoids Taylor like the plague for the remainder of the day — as well as the fact that Harry seems to be singing his entire Little Things solo to Niall, which Niall also pointedly ignores.

X

"She’s alright, yeah?” Harry asks softly. “Like, I know she’s upset but she’s ok?” His voice sounds muffled — and a bit rough —over the phone.

 _Haylor_ , as the fans and media called them, broke up a few weeks ago whilst on holiday in the Caribbean. Harry had texted him, just days after New Years, that things had ended and that he would need to be there for Taylor — that _Harry_ needed Ed to be there for her — and then a short while after that he’d wound up on the phone with her for two hours. She’d gone on about the fight they’d had, about how she’d sort of been expecting it but that, at the same time, she hadn’t been expecting it at all. She’d cried and whimpered and Ed had all but sung to her to make her feel just a little bit better. It broke his heart, how heartbroken she sounded. But he couldn’t honestly tell her that he hadn’t expected it.

This is the first time he’s actually spoken with Harry since it happened. It’s not that Harry had been avoiding him — or even that Ed had been the one avoiding Harry, it’s just that neither one of them have actually had time to sit down and talk about it.

“She _will_ be,” Ed murmurs. He doesn’t know how much he’s allowed to disclose about Taylor; he’s never been best friends with parties of a breakup — bad or otherwise. And he honestly doesn’t think it’s his place. It is, however, his place to check in on Harry in return. “Are _you_ ok?”

"I tried, Ed,” Harry mutters, ignoring the question. He breathes deeply into the phone. “I wanted it to work, I just - I couldn’t pretend like I wasn’t always thinking about someone else,” he whispers, admits. “And it’s not fair to her, so I - I had to-”

“I know, Harry,” Ed assures him, cuts him off gently.

Harry sighs heavily on the other end, like a weird mixture of frustration and relief. And then he groans and Ed can picture Harry rubbing a hand over his face or through his hair.

Ed hesitates before asking, “Are you and Niall still…?”

“Not talking?” Harry guesses, though not nearly as bitterly as Ed had sort of expected. Which is a good sign, he supposes. “A few days ago we weren’t but then Louis asked me the other day if I would be flying Taylor out while we’re on tour and I told them we’d broken up and the next thing I know Niall almost wouldn’t stop talking to me. Like, full-on chatter box. He invited me over tomorrow and everything.”

Silence falls between them and Ed doesn’t know what to say — doesn’t know if there’s anything he _should_ say. Harry’s not said much except for answering his question, after all.

"It’s strange because he used to love her — he has every one of her albums,” Harry murmurs thoughtfully — and Ed knows this isn’t the first time Harry’s thought about this. Harry’s probably thought about this every day. “And then all of a sudden he couldn’t even be in the same room as us. It’s like he hated the sight of her. Or me.”

Ed remains silent, again, but only for a few seconds because that’s when Harry starts talking again.

"Do you think he had a thing for her?” Harry asks. And his voice sounds rougher than it did a few moments ago. “Shit, Ed, do you think I got in the way?”

“Has he talked about her since he found out you broke up?” Ed asks despite the fact that he already knows the answer.

“Well no, but-”

“Then I don’t think he had a thing for _her_ ,” the redhead replies, emphasizing “her” because, well…

This time it’s Harry who remains silent. And if he catches on to what Ed’s trying to say, the brunette doesn’t say anything in return.

X

Ed doesn’t get to talk to Harry for a few months after that. He shoots Harry a text on his birthday, sends him a card and a silly cat-related gift, sees pictures of him all over Twitter on an almost daily basis, but other than that they’ve both been far too busy — One Direction with their _Take Me Home_ tour and Ed opening for Taylor’s _Red_ tour — to be able to actually _talk_ on a regular basis.

That is, until Harry happens to text him when they both have a day off in May.

They’ve just left a pub in Amersham, having just finished having lunch and taking a few quick photos with fans. They both have to catch a plane in a few hours and are on their way back to London when Harry brings it up.

"So, I didn’t want to tell you where everyone could hear but…” he trails off, glances sideways at Ed with a mischievous smile he tries to bite away with his teeth and then looks back ahead at the road. “Niall and I are, like, a thing.”

Ed’s eyes widen. He shifts in the passenger seat, turns his torso almost all the way around to look at the brunette properly. It’s like…he’s not surprised — at least not entirely, but he’s still a bit, well, surprised. “Yeah?”

Harry grins, bites at his lip again. “We’ve been sleeping together,” he explains, one hand holding the top of the steering as he rubs his other over his thigh. “Just, like, having a bit of fun, you know? ‘s not really that serious right now but we haven’t been seeing anyone else either, so…”

“How long’s it been going on?” Ed asks curiously.

“Since my birthday-”

“Your _birthday_!” The redhead shouts incredulously. He leans forward unconsciously and stares, eyes wide and mouth slightly hung open, at Harry. “That was, like, four months ago.”

"I know,” Harry laughs, “and I would’ve told you sooner but I didn’t know if it was even going to keep going, like once the tour had really started, and I didn’t want to, like, kiss and tell, you know?”

Ed hums because, sure, that makes sense. He supposes. But he’s never been in that position before, to be fair. He sits back in his seat and stares out the front window. “How’d it happen?”

Harry shrugs a bit nonchalantly before switching hands to hold the steering wheel — but the shimmering glimmer in his eyes gives him away. “He asked me to go to his place after my party so I had someone drop me off because I figured I would just end up staying the night anyway — and we ended up in the kitchen just, like, talking or whatever. And then he told me he was glad I broke up with Taylor and when I asked him why he got really quiet so I thought he was gonna tell me he fancied her — but then he kissed me.” He pauses, then, and the blush across his cheeks brightens. “And then it just sort of…happened. And the next morning it happened again and we decided to just…see what happened, you know? Have fun with it.”

Ed quirks an eyebrow at him. “And _are_ you — having fun with it?”

Harry smirks, looks sideways at him. “ _Loads_.”

“You’re disgusting,” the redhead deadpans. And then scowls because now he’s got a visual painted to the backs of his eyelids.

“ _You_ asked,” Harry laughs.

Ed rolls his eyes, despite the smile on his own face.

A silence falls between them, then, in which Harry keeps his gaze on the road and Ed finds himself looking between the road and Harry. It’s great, he thinks, that Harry’s finally got Niall. But, still, it seems as though he’s only got a _part_ of Niall — a physical part. And Ed knows, literally more than anyone, that Harry wants more than just a physical relationship with Niall.

Ed looks at Harry once more before asking, “Where do your _feelings_ fit in all this? Does he know?”

“He knows I have feelings, he just doesn’t know how strong they are,” Harry explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “And he has feelings too, I think, we just…haven’t really _talked_ about it, you know?”

"Why not?”

“Because it’s fucking terrifying.”

There’s another moment in silence and then-

“Is it strange that he still makes me feel just as nervous and giddy as he did when we were 18? Like, we’re together all the time because of One Direction and we’re together when we’re not even doing anything, like in between shows, and it’s like — I should be used to it by now but I’m not. Is that weird?” Harry wonders aloud.

Ed smiles, tears his gaze away from the truly _happy_ look on his best friend’s face. “Not at all,” he says softly.

_i have loved you since we were 18; long before we both thought the same thing_

X

Things fall apart in the beginning of December.

Months go by, again, in which Ed doesn’t really talk to Harry because, again, they’re both incredibly busy. It’s not to say he doesn’t see things though. Things like how Harry and Niall are the only two in the band to spend their nights in a hotel rather than on the tour bus, like how Harry keeps singing his _Little Things_ solo to Niall, like how the “Narry ship” is “sailing itself”. (Whatever that means.) He’s also seen a few of the interviews for One Direction’s This Is Us movie and, well, those are self-explanatory, really.

By December, however, both 1D Day and the AMA’s have come and gone, Harry’s been spotted hanging out with Kendall Jenner in LA — been rumoured to be dating her in the tabloids, naturally — and Niall’s already back in London. (He’s since been linked to Barbara Palvin.)

Ed’s wanted to ask Harry what’s been going on, to see if he was ok — if _they_ were ok — but he hasn’t because he knows it’s not his place. Even if Harry’s talked about it with him in the past. It just isn’t any of his business, really, and it isn’t his place to snoop around.

But then his phone rings, one night in the beginning of December, as it’s going on one o’clock in the morning and it’s Harry.

“Niall and I broke up.” Harry’s rough, whispered voice breaks over the phone and Ed has this sudden urge to coddle him.

Instead he forces himself to remain calm, logical. Indifferent. Because freaking out right now would like a parent panicking because their child has just fallen over; it just makes the crying worse. “Does it have to do with what’s going on in the media?” he asks softly. He thinks that’s a good place to start, at least.

“Sort of…”

“You can tell me, Harry,” Ed murmurs softly.

“Kendall and I are just friends, I swear,” Harry says. His voice sounds shaky and wrecked, like he’s struggling to hold himself together; it makes Ed’s heart hurt because he’s never heard Harry like this. Ever. And just like that it’s like the flood gates have opened. “And management wants us to play it up a bit, you know, for the album, for the Kardashian show — like a win-win for both of us. And we thought, like, whatever, you know? I wanted to get some writing done anyway and I haven’t seen Jeff in what feels like forever and… And Niall was ok, at first, but when I told him I was gonna stay in LA until Christmas instead of going back to London after 1D Day he got upset and then he got mad and he accused me of wanting to be with _her_ so I promised him that was the last thing I wanted — and I know he believes me, or that he _wants_ to, but he’s just…” He trailed off, takes a deep, shaky breath and sniffs back what are probably fat, salty tears before he continues. “He said we should take a break — like, that during the _band’s_ break and the holidays we should just give each other some space and figure out what we want and I tried to tell him that I just want _him_ but he’s…” He trails off, exhales shakily.

"He’s scared, probably, Harry,” Ed murmurs. He knows it’s probably a shit excuse, knows that it’s probably one of the last things Harry wants to hear. But he also knows Niall. “In fact there’s probably no way he’s _not_ scared.”

"Yeah — and now he’s run off to hang out with some stupid model to get revenge,” Harry scoffs. He regrets it a moment later because that’s when he sighs. “I mean, I know she’s not _stupid_ — she’s probably incredibly intelligent and really nice, otherwise Niall wouldn’t hang out with her, but it’s stupid.”

Ed hesitates, pinches the bridge of his nose because he really, really doesn’t want to have to say what he’s thinking. He’d much rather wrap Harry up in a blanket and make him tea to cushion the fall. “Maybe a break is what you guys need,” he says instead.

"I don’t need a break from Niall.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“What does it say…if Niall needs a break from me?” The way Harry asks it, his usually deep, raspy voice sounds smaller and weaker than what should acceptable.

“I think it’s less about you and more about _him_ , Harry,” Ed assures him thoughtfully. “Sometimes people just need space or time — or whatever to figure things out.” He’s sure that’s what it is. Harry’s told Ed, himself, that whenever Niall gets lost in his head he likes to be alone for a while, to sort it all out on his own. Ed thinks, with all Harry’s feelings going on in his own heart and the thoughts rushing around his own head that he’s probably forgotten how much space Niall needs sometimes.

"Yeah… Yeah, ok,” Harry breathes.

And for the first time since answering the phone, Ed isn’t afraid of Harry bursting into tears and falling apart. Nor is he afraid of not being able to do anything about it because they’re miles apart.

_we made a start; be it a false one, I know_

X

Ed sees Harry — and Niall, together — at Radio 1’s Big Weekend. He’d seen Harry a couple months before at Lou’s book launch for _The Craft_ but they hadn’t talked much about Niall because, well, according to Harry there hadn’t been much to talk about. Harry and Niall were on talking terms, of course — Ed doesn’t think they were ever even not on talking terms — but they also hadn’t seen each other since before Christmas.

The thing about Harry is that even when he’s sad he’s all smiles and giggles and knock-knock jokes. He puts on his pop star happy-face, mingles with the other celebrities — and if Ed hadn’t known any better, if he hadn’t known how wrecked Harry felt about Niall even during the book launch, he might’ve believed the show Harry had put on all night.

Seeing them now, however, tucked away from their own bandmates as well the insane amount of people backstage — between artists, crew members and volunteers — Ed finds himself feeling pretty convinced that there’s _something_ going on.

He watches them perform from backstage, watches the way Harry and Niall gravitate towards one another — as they’ve always done. He knows they have a show later and that they have to fly back to Dublin in a matter of hours, knows that if he’s going to talk to Harry it has to be _soon_. (He’s also very aware that he’s probably far too invested in a relationship that isn’t even his but, well, it’s Harry’s fault. Harry started it.)

And Harry is the one who finds him — in the loo whilst Ed’s washing his hands at one of two sinks. They exchange greetings and how-are-you’s, they congratulate one another and talk about their sets and tours and then-

“So you and Niall?” Ed asks curiously. “Again?”

Harry bursts into a smile and a light blush creeps across his cheekbones. He nods ever-so-slightly as he glances down sort of shyly at the sink in front of him.

Ed smiles, claps Harry on the back and shakes his shoulders a little bit. “And it’s good?”

“It’s _better_ ,” Harry grins. “I mean, like, we’re still keeping it to ourselves for the most part but most of the people who are important to us know now — like, our families and the boys. You.”

"How’d it happen this time?”

The brunette shrugs as he turns to face Ed, resting his left hip bone on the sink. He can’t seem to stop smiling. “We just — rehearsals started and he said he wanted to talk about _us_ afterwards so we went back to his flat. And we decided to take it slow after that, you know? Like, just figure each other out. Make it work this time, be happy.”

“That’s really great, mate.”

“He told me he loved me a few nights ago,” Harry blurts a moment later. His eyes widen like saucers, like he’s surprised even himself, but then his gaze softens along with his smile and he just looks…fond. In love. It makes even Ed’s heart stutter a bit. “Which is sort of funny b’cause I’ve been in love with him for over two years — at least a year longer than he’s been in love with me — and _he’s_ the first on to say it.”

"Did you say it back?”

“Of course I did,” Harry scoffs. “What do you take me for, an idiot?”

Ed shrugs teasingly, laughs when Harry shoves him playfully. He watches the brunette settle back against the edge of the sink once more, his arms folded over his chest and he, too, leans against the sink beside him, shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“It’s so different this time; so much better,” Harry murmurs happily. “It’s like…we’re both on the same page, you know? Like we both want the same thing. It’s like…it’s just like _finally_ , you know? And it feels really good — like we were _made_ for this, for each other.”

Ed doesn’t say it but he thinks he agrees, thinks they’re perfect for each other.

"It just…it feels nice, you know? Knowing that he’s in love with me too; that he wants this too.”

Paul comes looking for Harry a moment later, says they have to go and that Niall’s already in the car. It doesn’t mean anything, that Niall’s waiting for him, but…it kind of does, doesn’t it?

_to be loved and to be in love; and all I could do is say these arms were made for holding you, oh_

X

Ed doesn’t set out to write a _song_ about it. But there are verses that won’t leave him alone and a story he can’t stop thinking about and, well, he decides to call it _18_. He mulls over the final draft for three days before he emails them, along with the guitar cords for the melody he’d written it, to Harry. And then he waits.

And he’s a bit nervous about it, if he’s honest. It’s not like he’s never written songs for other people before — songs about _other_ relationships or situations — because he does that all the time. He draws inspiration from people he knows, from books he’s read and movies he’s watched so that’s nothing new. It’s just that this, HarryandNiall, feels more…intimate. It feels so much more close to home, somehow. And it’s uneasy, this waiting game because what if Harry hates it? What if Harry would prefer to write his own song about his _own_ relationship? What if he gets offended — or worse?

He tries not to think about it, tries not to let the anticipation get to him.

And then Harry calls a few hours later and Ed just about fumbles both his guitar and the phone to pick it up.

“Thank you,” is the first thing out of the brunette’s mouth.

Ed breathes a sight of relief, feels all the built-up tension disappear as he leans back against the couch. “You’re welcome.”

“Is it what I think it is?”

“It’s yours is what it is.”

“You really didn’t have to,” Harry tells him, but his voice tells Ed otherwise.

“I kind of did though,” Ed murmurs, fingers plucking at a loose thread from a year in his jeans. “You know what songwriting’s like.”

“It’s amazing, Ed,” Harry whispers. His voice is soft, genuine — sounds a bit overwhelmed, like he might cry. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”

“Why would I keep it? It has nothing to do with _me_.”

Harry hums and then a calm, comfortable sort of silence falls between them. Ed’s nervous heart finally stops throwing itself against his ribcage and he’s about to ask when Harry tells him-

"Niall’s gonna love it,” the brunette says softly, as though he’s reading Ed’s mind. “Like, they’re all gonna love it but _Niall_ … He’s gonna have your cords memorized in, like, an hour, mate.”

Ed laughs, mostly because Harry’s probably right.

"I’ll send you the finished product before we put everything together, just in case you have some input,” Harry tells him.

The redhead finds himself shaking his head despite the fact that Harry can’t see him. “It’s not my song anymore, Harry. It never was, to be fair.”

“It always will be,” Harry insists. “ _You_ wrote it-“

"From the things _you_ told me. It’s yours, Harry. Yours and Niall’s, yeah.”

"I’m still gonna send it to you.” Harry’s stubborn, is the thing.

Ed rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

He hears a slightly muffled and very Irish voice in the background, then, asking Harry if he’s seen something — seen what, Ed isn’t quite sure; he doesn’t always understand what Niall’s saying over the phone, especially if his voice is already distorted.

“I have to go,” Harry tells him a moment later. “Niall tends to take his clothes off and then then forgets where he leaves them-”

“Oi, shut it!” (That one’s fairly easy to make out.) “Nine times out of ten it’s _you_ who’s stolen something.”

“ _Borrowed_. I _borrow_ your clothes. I would never steal; stealing’s wrong.”

"Whatever, idiot.”

Ed smiles because even he can hear the fond in Niall’s voice. That, and he’s always liked their banter.

“I have to go, Ed,” Harry says again. “I’ll show Niall the thing in a bit.”

“T’ing? What t’ing?”

“Cheers, mate,” Ed laughs — and then Harry’s voice gets cut off mid-sentence by the dial tone in his ear.

+

Niall texts him a short while later — _love it mate ! Thanks !_ — and Ed feels another wave a relief wash over him and he finds himself grinning like a lunatic. The fact that Niall likes — _loves_ — the song somehow means more to him than Harry’s love for it. There’s something in knowing that Niall approves of it — maybe of Ed’s involvement in it — that means just a little bit more.

Ed wonders if he has, in fact, memorized the cords yet.

X

The next time Ed sees Niall is at the iHeart Radio Festival after party — and Ed can’t even remember the last time either of them were this drunk together. He almost asks where Harry is before remembering that Harry, the poor lad, is still underage.

He’s hot and he’s sweaty and the tequila shots he and Niall had done with Macklemore earlier have really started to go to his head and he feels _great_ , honestly. And Niall is like a free spirit, talking to everyone and anyone and literally _everyone_ loves him. Niall is just, well, Niall.

As talkative as Niall is, though, and as much time as they spend goofing off on top the long bar and posing for pictures all around, Ed doesn’t actually get to _talk_ to Niall until later. And it’s Niall who brings it up.

“I never t’anked you b’fore, for th’ song — not properly,” Niall slurs into his ear as he leans back with both elbows against the edge of the bar. His voice is loud enough for Ed to hear over the steady stream of club music yet low enough that _only_ Ed can hear. He grins sideways at Ed. “It’s beautiful, mate. Like, perfect.”

Ed smiles back. “Thanks, mate.”

“Also,” the blond starts, twirling himself around to lean forward against the edge of the counter, back to the rest of the club. He leans sideways, heavily on his right elbow, closer to Ed. “Thank you for bein’ there for ‘im — t’rough everything. He told me you were jus’ there when he needed someone to talk to — and I know he really appreciated it. And I do too, knowing he could talk to you.”

“About _you_ ,” Ed snickers, rolls his eyes playfully as he signals the bartender for two more drinks.

"Yeah,” Niall breathes. A bright, crimson rushes up his neck and splashes itself across his cheeks. “I wasn’t that far off, you know? A bit less than a year, if ‘m honest — which was why I reacted so horribly to him being with Taylor.”

Ed nods, more for himself than for Niall because he already knew that. “Why’d you break up with him?” he asks suddenly. It’s something that’s always been at the back of his mind — especially so since running into Niall several hours ago. He remembers what Harry had told him, of course, to the best of the boy’s own knowledge, but still. Maybe there’s something more, something they both missed.

Niall shrugs, thanks the bartender as he takes one of the two bottles he places in front of them and nurses said bottle between both hands. “I mean he was staying in LA with Kendall freaking Jenner,” he murmurs, picking at the label with his thumb. “We were gonna be apart for a couple of months anyway and it just… I just thought, you know, break up now, figure things out, it’ll save the pain of having it happen later.” He pauses, takes a sip of his beer and then looks at Ed. “And then I thought, if it happens again — if we decided to have another go then that would be it, you know? It’s like…if something happens once, you can call it an accident — but if it happens twice it must be more than that.”

Ed blinks, stares at him silently and then nods as he pats gently at Niall’s shoulder, shakes it. (There’s the _more_.)

+

Ed texts Harry a little while later whilst taking a trip to the loo: _You have an amazing boyfriend_

 _I know. And if this was anyone else I reckon I’d be a bit worried. Is he behaving himself?_ , he receives in return, mere seconds later.

He smirks, rolls his eyes as he types out a response before pocketing his phone and going back out to join the remainder of the party. _I mean…he’s Irish. But yeah, of course he’s behaving himself._


End file.
